Happy Ending
by Warblerpuff
Summary: It had been a week. A week since Alfred's love confession. And Alfred and Arthur haven't spoke since. But,it's funny what three simple words can do to completely change someone's perspective, isn't it? Continuation of 'Unrequited Love'.


**Well, here is a continuation of "Unrequited Love"! A few of you asked for it, and I just couldn't let my OTP be unhappy! **

**I'd just like to thank skyspottedshadow, Funny Unicorn Called Koko , monochrome-song, CelestialCiel, TheDoctorDances, Zaura Fay, wooftmnt, and PunkIggy for your fabulous reviews! Thank you all so much~! **

**Reviews keep me motivated, guys! (-wink, nudge-) But, really, Let's get this story started...almost.  
**

**Title:** Happy Ending**  
**

**Pairing: **USUK

**Rating**: T

**Warnings: **Accidental Francis hate. Again. I really do love France, okay? I'm just mean to him in this story. Maybe I'll write something nice with him one day. Angst. Cheesy moments. HUGE CHEESY MOMENTS, okay? My spell check is _still_ being mean, so there very well might be a few typos.

**Summary: ** It had been a week. And Arthur and Alfred had no contact. Not since Alfred's love confession seven days ago. But, it's funny what three simple words can do to completely change someone's perspective, isn't it?

**Also: **Human names used only. So, you can take this as part of Hetalia or even an AU. It's up to the reader. And, this still isn't my first go 'round with my beloved UsUk, however, I'm still nervous for this. Hopefully I did my OTP justice. Can be read without reading Unrequited Love, although, it might make more sense if you did.

******Also again:** This is meant to be repetitive. I did this on purpose. And, I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

It had been a week.  
A whole bloody week.

A week since Arthur went to Alfred for comfort, yet again, and got just that.  
A week since Alfred had told Arthur that he loved him.  
A week since Arthur had any idea of what to do with himself.

Had it really only been a week?  
It felt like so much longer.

But, time always went faster for Arthur when he was talking to Alfred on the phone, or seeing him, or hanging out with him occasionally.  
But, it had been a week since anything like that happened.  
He couldn't call Alfred now.  
What would he say?

Though, most the time, he wasn't the first to call.  
He was always the last to hang up.

But, his phone hadn't rang in a week.

A bloody week.

If someone had told him eight days ago, that one week without any communication with Alfred would have turned him into this, he'd have rolled his eyes and told them he'd do just fine, and that he didn't need to always be with that idiot.

Apparently, he did always need to be with that idiot. At least, he desperately _wanted _ to be with that idiot.

If only he'd have known just how much he needed Alfred...he could have told him that night, and he'd be with him right now.  
Maybe he'd be running his fingers through Alfred's beautiful sandy blond hair.  
Maybe he'd be kissing Alfred's surprisingly soft lips.  
Or maybe, he'd simply be staring into Alfred's impossibly blue eyes.

But, he wasn't doing any of those things tonight, was he?

No, of course not.

No, now he was trying his hardest at getting off the phone, because the person on the other line wasn't Alfred and he simply annoyed England to no end right now.

Funny what three simple words can do to completely change someone's perspective, isn't it?

"Francis, I'm sorry, but I'm staying in tonight. I...I've got a headache and I just want to drink some tea and go to bed." Arthur said quickly and sat on his couch leaning into it so much it was as if he was trying to disappear in it.

"Come on, Arthur. You've been saying that every night." Francis replied, in that same french accent that used to make Arthur melt. Now, it was just a voice. "And you know what is a good cure for a headache? Se-"

"I mean it. I've had a very...stressful few days, okay? Besides, I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding someone else to get into bed tonight." Arthur folded his arms angrily, as best as he could while having a phone still in his hand. And, he didn't mean it. He hadn't really had a headache every night, but, Francis had told him untrue things all the time, surely he could tell him about a fake headache or six.

"Ah, you're probably right there." Francis said, and Arthur could piratically see the look on his arrogant look on his face. And something about it really bugged him.

"So, just go find someone else tonight, alright?" Arthur sighed and realized just how right Alfred had been.

Why did Arthur keep going back to Francis? Why couldn't he find someone else? Someone who would make him happy and not cause him such pain?  
Why didn't he just realize how right Alfred had been a week ago?

Francis continued to break his heart.  
Francis didn't seem to even notice when Arthur was shattered.  
Francis always said he loved Arthur, but never meant it.  
Francis always just came to Arthur for sex, knowing he'd likely get it because of Arthur's feelings for him.  
Francis didn't love him back.  
Francis never really cared, did he?

He didn't.

Just three days ago, Francis had slept with his friend Gilbert.

Francis usually swept things like that under the rug, and shrugged them off.  
He figured it was no big deal. He and Arthur weren't married or anything.  
He didn't see why he couldn't sleep with someone else now and then?  
Besides, it had been a few days since Arthur would go out with him.

Yes, Francis thought Arthur overreacted to being cheated on repeatedly.  
If anything, Arthur thought he _under-_reacted to being cheated on repeatedly.

Francis didn't care.  
Arthur knew that.  
Alfred tried telling him.

Why didn't he just realize how right Alfred had been a week ago?

It had taken one of the hardest weeks of his life to understand what he meant to Alfred.  
And see what Alfred meant to him.

Because, whatever this was with Francis was anything but love.  
And whatever it was, was over now.

"And, whilst we're on the subject of you sleeping around and all, I'd just like to request that you not ask me to come "see you" or "spend time together", because we both know what you actually want. So, I'm just asking that you leave me alone and go find someone else's emotions to fuck with. I'm done having you play with mine." And the words had left his mouth before he even knew he had said them.

No way did Arthur just say that.

There was no way.  
No way had he told Francis to find someone else.  
No way had he piratically tried to cut him out of his life.  
No way had he actually just stood up for himself.  
No way had he just told Francis exactly what he was thinking.

He had spent the past year or so, putting up with everything Francis did.  
He had spent all that time letting anger build up and never letting Francis fully see it.  
He had spent so much time sitting back and letting it all happen.  
He had just blown up, hadn't he?

"What? Oh, come now, Arthur. You're being ridiculous. You know, I love you, don't you? Arthur_, Je t'aime, mon cher._" There it was again. That bloody lie of love, so openly fake, in that same seductive, selfish, arrogant French accent.

Arthur knew full well it was untrue. He knew that.  
Because no matter what he gave to Francis, Francis just used him.

Arthur felt like screaming or crying or something he didn't even know.  
He just knew he was angry, and that headache was starting to become more and more real.

He wanted to yell and probably fight, but, instead, he decided, he really didn't want to.  
So, he hung up the phone.

He knew there was somewhere he could go to be happy and not feel like this.-if he was still wanted, that is.

So, he quickly decided what he'd do.

He wasn't waiting another minute.

Sure, the faux love Francis had filled him up with felt pretty good before. -When he wasn't in pain, that is.

But, nothing compared to the feeling Alfred had given him.

Now that he knew someone actually loved him,  
he wasn't waiting another minute sitting at home feeling sorry for himself.

Now that he knew he actually loved someone,  
he wasn't waiting another minute sitting at home not doing a damn thing about it.

He was in love with Alfred F. Jones, and there was nothing he could do about it.  
He was in love with Alfred F. Jones, and there was nothing he felt deeper than that.  
He was in love with Alfred F. Jones, and he wanted him to know just how much he meant to him.

As long as Alfred would let him.  
Arthur had sort of broken Alfred's heart.  
What if he didn't want to see Arthur again?  
What would Arthur do?

Alfred hadn't called him since everything happened last week.  
Usually, Alfred called him every other day, if not, then every day.  
Arthur knew Alfred had been avoiding him.

So, what if he continued avoiding him?

What if by the time Arthur got to him, Alfred was done with him?  
What if by the time Arthur got to him, Alfred didn't want him anymore?  
What if by the time Arthur got to him, Alfred moved on?

The thought nearly killed him.

What if he was too late and Alfred was just fine without him?  
Was he too late?  
He'd have to find out.

So, he picked up the phone and dialed Alfred's number as fast as he could.

It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang and rang.  
Until eventually...

it went to voice-mail.

"Hey! Sorry I didn't get your call, yo! But, I'm probably too busy right now, or asleep. So, just leave me a message and all that jazz. Alright, peace out. _-'Alfred, 'peace out' is really kind of obnoxious, you're gonna have to do that again'.- _Nahh, I think it's fine. Oh, wait, it's still record-" Arthur was almost surprised to hear his own voice in the background.  
He'd not heard Alfred's voice mail in so long that he forgot he was there when Alfred recorded it.  
And, it really was an obnoxious voice-mail message, he should fix that.

Though, Arthur did like being able to hear the obnoxious excitement in the American's voice when he felt like this.  
It was so cheerful that for a second, Arthur caught a small smile spreading on his lips.  
But, then he heard the beep and remembered that Alfred hadn't answered his call.

So, did that mean he didn't want to talk to Arthur?

It wasn't too late, so he'd probably not be asleep, and he nearly always had that bloody phone with him like some teenage girl.

He really shouldn't jump to conclusions like this, but, Arthur felt a rush of fear hit him.  
But, he continued to go see Alfred.  
He couldn't sit there any longer.

Not when there was a possibility he'd lost Alfred.

He had to try, didn't he?

* * *

This had turned out to be the worst week of Alfred's life.

A week without Arthur was harder than he thought it'd be.

It had taken everything he had not to call him or go see him.

But he couldn't.  
He knew he'd make it worse.  
Everything he said was wrong.

He didn't think.  
He didn't know how to when it came to Arthur.  
He just...felt too much.

So, he'd have to avoid him.  
He'd have to let him be happy with Francis.  
As happy as he can be with Francis, that is.

He tried the whole night to ignore his thoughts and feelings about Arthur.  
He really did.

But then, at one point, his phone rang, and it was Arthur calling.

He didn't want to deal with it.  
He didn't want to make it all worse.  
He didn't want to feel heartbroken again.  
He just wanted to ignore Arthur and never answer his phone again.

So, when that happened, he walked away from the cell phone sitting on the seat with him on the couch and got up to get some coffee. He did his best to ignore it and hoped by the time he got back, it'd go away.

And it did.

His phone had stopped ringing.  
He sighed in what might have been relief, or maybe disappointment. He couldn't tell.  
And then, well, he couldn't think of a thing to do.

Arthur had called him.

He had purposely picked up the phone and dialed his number.

He wanted to talk to Alfred.  
And Alfred ignored him.

Great. Now what?

Did he call him back?  
He had to, didn't he?  
What if it was important?  
What if Arthur had changed his mind and -no. He wouldn't.

Arthur didn't feel the same.

Alfred knew that.

But, he still had the phone in his hands.  
And Arthur's number was on speed-dial.  
And it very well could have been important.  
So, he called him.

And rang, and rang, and rang, and rang and rang.  
Until finally...

It went to voice-mail.

"Hello, sorry I'm not able to answer right now, but, you can leave a message and I'll -Bloody hell, Alfred,will you please turn down your video game? I'm trying to record this. '_Fine, but will you-' _No, I don't want to play. '_Pleeeeaaaseee_?' Fine, fine, but, -blimey. How the hell do you rerecord this?" Alfred smiled as he heard Arthur's voice along with his own.

He forgot to show Arthur how to re-record the message. But, he had agreed to play video games with him! So, he was a bit distracted.

And, god, it felt so good to hear Arthur's voice.  
But, then his smiled faded as he started thinking again.  
He hung up the phone, not wanting to leave a voice-mail.

What if Arthur had accidentally called him?  
He probably didn't even mean to call him.

So, he sat the phone back down on the couch and decided to watch TV or something to try and fail to get Arthur off his mind.

He knew it probably wouldn't work.  
He knew he'd continue to think of Arthur the whole night.  
He'd think of Arthur every day of his life, really.  
He knew it was no use.

But, he also knew, he had to do as he said he would and back off.

He had to let Arthur be happy.  
Even if that meant he'd be miserable.

So now, however many hours later, he just sat there, in front of his TV, staring even though he'd died in the middle of his game twenty minutes ago.

He just sat there.  
With no idea what to do now.

He could go to bed  
He could restart his game.  
He could call Arthur again.  
He could just sit there.

And then, he just dropped the controller and sighed, laying back, falling onto the carpet.

He decided to lay there until he figured out what to do next.

So, he lay there.  
And eventually, he started to drift off to sleep.

Everything felt slightly lighter and he was just about out when, a sudden crashing sound woke him with a start.

He jumped up, and looked around, the house was dark except for the light of the neglected television set.

Alfred always claimed to be a hero, but as soon as something like this happened, he was praying he had his own hero.  
Because, the night kind of scared him.

He didn't like the dark usually, he hated random noises, and now this one was _loud._

He slowly and shakily got to his feet and walked towards the kitchen...he listened for a second and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the sound again.

He realized it was coming from the door.  
His front door.  
The door to the outside world.  
And someone was _knocking _on it.  
_At this hour? _

-Although, he had no idea what hour it actually was. -_  
_

Alfred took a breath and went to the door, slowly opening it.

Why was he doing this?  
It was probably a murderer.  
Or worse, Ivan.

He watched as the door opened, he tried to get a good look at whoever it was, as good of a look you can get at someone with one eye closed.

The first thing he saw was bright blond hair.  
A shade of blond that seemed to calm Alfred slightly.

Then he saw the biggest eyebrows he'd ever seen.  
And then his heart skipped a beat.

Because he next thing he saw were brilliant, wet, shining green eyes staring into his.  
And then he realized it.

It was Arthur.

And he pulled the door all the way open in a split second and tried to think.  
He fumbled over words, he didn't know what was coming out of his mouth at this point.  
But, as gave up trying to say something, _anything_, he felt two thin, beautiful, somehow strong arms wrap around him.

"A-Arthur?"

He was taken back a little, and nearly fell over.  
The feeling was almost too familiar.

Alfred felt a rush of devaju at the sensation.

He had someone knocking on his door in the middle of the night, answering the door only to be greeted by Arthur crying and hugging him tightly.

Maybe Arthur had forgotten about last week.  
That was probably best.

But, still, Arthur was upset. It was obvious.

He wasn't crying like normal though.  
No, now it was only light tears.  
So much better than before.

But still, Arthur was crying, so Alfred couldn't explain that any more positively than "better".

He expertly kicked the door close, holding Arthur in place, he went to make his way to the couch and sit like usual until he felt Arthur let go and then...then, everything was different.

Because, when he looked at Arthur to see why he let go, all he could do was look into his eyes for a second before Arthur threw his arms around Alfred's neck and kissed him.

And everything vanished.

All the feelings from the past week were gone.  
All he felt was Arthur.  
It was just like before.

Except, this time, he knew what would happen.

He didn't let himself get his hopes too high up.  
He knew Arthur would eventually leave, saying it was a bad idea and that he never shouldn't have even been here.  
Something like that.

He knew it.

So, he kissed Arthur back with everything he had.

Like the world was ending.

Because, he knew this was the last time they'd be like this.

He didn't know why Arthur showed up. All he knew was it'd be over soon, and he should enjoy this as long as he could.

Because when it was over, Arthur would eventually leave.  
When it was over, Arthur would call it a mistake.  
When it was over, he'd have to go right back to being without Arthur for even longer.  
When it was over... it'd all be over.  
Again.

And then...

Then it was over.

Alfred prepared himself for every possible ending he could imagine.  
He got ready for it.  
He was submitting to the words he'd knew he'd hear.  
He expected the hurt feeling that would take place when Arthur would leave.  
He was fully aware of what came next.

He stood there, his arms still around Arthur.  
His brain told them to let go, but they wouldn't move.

He sighed as he felt Arthur back away.

Here it comes...

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Arthur started, looking at his feet.

Alfred prepared himself for every possible ending he could imagine...

"I probably shouldn't just come crashing on your door, especially not this late..."

He got ready for it.

"I really shouldn't just attack you either..." He laughed humorlessly.

He was submitting to the words he'd knew he'd hear.

"I just, I didn't know what else to do...I shouldn't have kissed you like that though." He looked back up at Alfred and sighed.

He expected the hurt feeling that would take place when Arthur would leave.

"I just...I have to say something. But, oh, how? I...Oh why is this so bloody hard? Dammit, Alfred. I..."

He was fully aware of what came next.

"Alfred, I love you."

"I understand, I figured you'd feel that way anyway, I don't blame you. I'll see you arou-...what?" Alfred had started with the words he'd rehearsed in his head, but then the world stopped as it hit him.

He had to of heard wrong.  
No way did Arthur just say that.

He had made it up in his head.  
His imagination was acting up.  
He had to of heard wrong.

"What did you...?" He trailed off and Arthur sighed.

"I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want to hear it, and I know we're in the opposite position of last time, I understand if you've moved on...I just- Alfred! Why are you laughing? Stop it, I'm being serious."

It was true, Alfred had started laughing.  
He started cracking up, actually.

Because now, he could breathe.  
It wasn't like before.  
Now he knew.  
Now everything was absolutely beautiful and wonderful and the best it could be.

Because, Arthur loved him.

So, he couldn't help it.

He took a step forward and lightly kissed Arthur for just a second.  
Because now he could give him a light kiss, it wouldn't be the last.

Alfred smiled and ran his fingers through Arthur's hair."Arthur, it's only been a week, how could I have moved on that quickly? Or at all, really. And, I do want to hear it, it's all I have wanted to hear for months, years even! Arthur, I'm sorry to laugh, I'm just relived, I guess. I..."

"Well, I'm trying to be serious and you're laughing at me!" Arthur huffed, crossing his arms.

Alfred rolled his eyes and softly laughed again. "I'm not laughing at you I'm just happy."

"Really?" Arthur looked up at him, and Alfred could have literally swooned Arthur's eyes were so wonderfully green.

"Yes!" He said, hoping Arthur wouldn't notice the tears in his eyes. "Arthur, you said you love me...that's all I needed." He smiled, then suddenly a surge of panic ran through him. "You did say that, right?"

"Yes," Arthur chuckled. "Yes, love. I said that. And I mean it, I'm just so sorry I didn't see it before. I was just, stupid, really. I'm sorry, I-"

"That doesn't matter now." Alfred said quickly. And it didn't. And he didn't want to think of anything that ever happened before Arthur showed up at his door tonight.

"It does, Alfred-"

"No, listen. Look, let's not talk about it. I just want to focus on now instead of last week, alright?"

Arthur nodded. "Good idea."

Alfred sighed happily. "Now what?"

"Uhm, I don't know. I've not thought that far. I just came over to say...what I said. So, that's as far as I'd planned." Arthur looked down and smiled lightly.

He started to wonder if this was really happening.

"Yeah, that. -But, I mean, you know...what about you and I?" Alfred asked nervously, and took Arthur's hands.

"What about us? I thought we were fine, you're not still upset are you?" Arthur looked up at Alfred quickly. He felt a bit of guilt as he watched him think. What if he was still upset?

What if he didn't want to be with Arthur?  
Weren't they just fine?

"Oh. No, no, Arthur. I'm not upset. I-I just meant, like, are we...are we like, uhm...how do I ask you to be my boyfriend without sounding like I'm in the 7th grade?" Alfred looked at Arthur helplessly.

Arthur held back a laugh. "Is that what you're on about?" He rolled his eyes, as Alfred nodded. "Alfred, I just came over here in the middle of the bloody night to tell you that I love you, I don't think you have to ask."

"I just want to make sure," Alfred said. "I love you a lot, Arthur, and I just...I want to be with you and all." Alfred looked down, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Even Arthur thought he was ridiculous how bloody adorable he thought Alfred looked.  
"And I want to be with you, alright? So, if you're asking, I'd love to be your boyfriend. And I'd like you to be mine. -Does that clear things up?"

Alfred nodded, looking up, and smiling at the blush on Arthur's cheeks. Arthur was always really cute when he did that. "Yeah, yeah, it sure does." He leaned in and kissed Arthur. "I love you so much."

Arthur's blush deepened, and he smiled like he hadn't probably in years. "I love you, too."

And finally, Arthur was all Alfred's.  
And Alfred was all Arthur's.

Neither of them felt like this was real.  
Neither of them felt like this was a dream.  
It just sort of felt like they both knew when they woke up the next day they'd think it was all a dream for a moment, but smile and know it was real when they saw the other next to them.

Alfred and Arthur had quite the history, years of fights and friendship, they never thought they'd end up like this.

They never thought they'd actually be together and yet, here they were.

And, they both thought that was how it was meant to be.


End file.
